


Good Choices

by NachoDiablo



Series: SamSteve KinderCap AU [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Awkwardness, Captain America Sam Wilson, First Dates, M/M, Modern Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Teacher Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/pseuds/NachoDiablo
Summary: Steve and Sam have an unexpected visitor crash their first date.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: SamSteve KinderCap AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628230
Comments: 25
Kudos: 94
Collections: SamSteve Anniversary Week





	Good Choices

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sadie for the beta <3 you are truly the SamSteve beta hero we need in these trying times.
> 
> Note: This mostly stands alone, but read part 1 of the series for more background on how Sam and Steve met in this AU.

An expensively shabby coffee shop wasn’t the sort of spot where Steve usually took people on first dates. But to be fair, Steve did not go on many first dates to begin with.

And he’d certainly never been on a first date with Captain America before.

Not that Steve cared about that. As far as he was concerned, this was a date with Sam Wilson, not Cap. Still, he wasn’t so foolish as to think that Sam’s superhero status wasn’t something to consider. When Sam had suggested coffee at a place where they wouldn’t be pestered, Steve was quick to assure Sam that the plan sounded great.

Any time spent with Sam was an excellent plan, in Steve’s opinion.

They’d been texting back and forth over the last few weeks. It had been tough to find time to meet up in person. Sam had been out on missions, and then Steve had been busy with parent-teacher conferences and a particularly stressful battle with the PTA over what allergens would be allowed at the back-to-school bake sale. 

Steve had lucked out this year: the majority of his parents were involved with their kids’ education, yet laid back. Unfortunately, Dennis Whitney’s father had chosen that week to be an uncharacteristically involved parent and protested that agave syrup should be banned because “it comes from tequila, it’s gonna get the kids drunk.”

Steve had felt a little silly, complaining to an Avenger about the trials and tribulations of teacher life. But Sam always empathised. In his line of work, he had to deal with a lot of people who enjoyed making things difficult for the hell of it. Steve liked how he and Sam were able to commiserate, and he  _ really _ liked being able to make Sam laugh as he regaled him with Tales From The Elementary. 

Steve had attempted to keep things casual. Looking back superficially at their relationship trajectory, he had succeeded. They’d met, had a hookup, exchanged some flirty chats, made a couple calls, exchanged a few sweaty ab pics, and now they were going to grab coffee. It was all so easy, straightforward and completely chill.

Or it would have been, except for the fact that Steve was completely and utterly gone on Sam already.

Steve was generally hesitant about opening up to people, but once he was in, he was all in. With Sam, it had been easy to go all in. The low timber of Sam’s laughter, the sympathetic hitch in his voice when Steve shared an irritating parent story, the uncertain waver when he shared something personal. The memory of Sam’s sated expression as they’d been tangled together after their first meeting.

But he had to play it cool, as remote a possibility as that was.

Steve slowed his pace as he got closer to the coffee shop. He spotted Sam standing by the door, scrolling through his phone, dressed in a long sleeved olive shirt and tan slacks. It wasn’t a flashy outfit, but Steve could tell the clothes were of a higher quality than his own Target-sourced jeans and jersey.

And framing his deep brown eyes were a pair of black rimmed glasses. They rested against Sam’s perfect cheekbones and softened his Avengers cool into something warm and alluring and sexy as hell and oh  _ shit, _ Steve was out of his depth.

Playing it cool had just become an impossibility. For a moment, Steve considered doing a one eighty and marching right back home before he inevitably embarrassed himself and blew whatever chance he’d had.

But then Sam looked up from his phone. His eyes met Steve’s, and he smiled. Sam had a killer smile, with that little gap in his teeth, but it was the way his shoulders lowered slightly and the furrow in his forehead smoothed out that made Steve’s pulse quicken. The idea that Sam might be nervous as well gave Steve the courage to return the smile and keep walking.

“Hey, you made it.” Sam smiled wider as he slid his phone into his back pocket. “You’re early.”

Steve didn’t point out that Sam was even earlier. He just grinned and shrugged one shoulder. “Didn’t wanna miss my chance to see you again.”

“Smooth.” Sam rolled his eyes behind his glasses. His lashes fluttered, nearly long enough to brush the lenses. Sam really did have gorgeous eyes, Steve thought to himself, and they looked too damn good with those glasses. Like a pair of classic paintings set in elegant frames. 

He wanted nothing more than to tug Sam in for a kiss, but he restrained himself. Just because they’d hooked up before wasn’t a guarantee that Sam would welcome a kiss now. Instead, he pulled one hand from his pocket and started to hold it out for a shake, just as Sam stepped forward and tilted his head up slightly before freezing. Panic flashed across Sam’s face, and Steve realized that  _ Sam _ had indeed been going in for a kiss.

Before Sam could step back, Steve’s hands were at his waist, holding him close. Steve kept his eyes open, focused on Sam’s as he leaned in to accept the kiss. It wasn’t much more than an awkward brush of lips, chaste and quick. But when Steve pulled back, Sam had a dreamy sort of smile on his face that made Steve grin back widely in return.

They both chuckled as they parted. “Sorry,” Sam muttered as he rolled his shoulders. “This is, uh… Not the most familiar territory for me.”

“Me neither,” Steve said. Sam raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t comment further, and Steve didn’t offer up any additional information about his dismal dating record. He’d save the story of his sickly adolescence and graceless college years for another time.

They made their way into the coffee shop; Steve held the door for Sam. He looked around at the funky decor and sleek metal accents. The clientele was an odd mix of suited up stiffs and hipsters with undercuts. Steve was certain that no less than five never-to-be-published novels were in the works amongst the myriad of silver laptops glinting amongst the seating. “Wow, this place is… nice. They got good coffee here?”

“I guess.” Sam seemed dubious. “Never been here before. A friend recced it, but all I asked for was a place with good pour-overs and no hassle. I didn’t mention the whole date thing. Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“It’s fine,” Steve assured him. “It’s good people watching, at the very least.” He sidled up next to Sam and laced their fingers together. “And the coffee can be shit for all I care, as long as I get to sit next to you while I’m drinking it.”

Sam shook his head, laughing. “You’re something else, you know that? Alright, how about you go find us a seat, and I’ll grab the drinks? I’m incognito, but maybe I’ll get a discount.”

The teasing tone made Steve laugh. He squeezed Sam’s hand, then hurried over to a rounded corner booth that had recently been abandoned. He and Sam would be able to sit close to each other as they talked. Steve smiled to himself. This was going to be an amazing first date.

“Mr. Rogers? Mr. Rogers? Hi. Hi. Hi. Mr. Rogers? Hi, Mr. Rogers.”

Startled from his thoughts, Steve looked across the table. A small boy with messy brown curls and a Daniel Tiger sweatshirt was waving an unopened juice box at him. 

Steve smiled weakly. “Hi, Nate. What’s going on?” Shit. He’d been so concerned about being mobbed by Cap fans that he hadn’t considered running into one of his students.

Nate shrugged. He looked down at his juice box and frowned with concentration as he attempted to poke the straw through the hole. “I’m here with my mom. We shared a black and white cookie. Mom said don’t get the chocolate on your clothes, but I did. I wasn’t being careful.”

“I can see that.” Steve looked at the dark brown streaks across Nate’s jeans. “You need help with that straw?”

“Nope.”

“Okay,” Steve said skeptically as he watched Nate continue to stab at the juice box. “Where’s your mom now?”

Nate’s only answer was to point the straw at Steve before sticking it up his nose.

“Nate!” Mrs. Jackson came running over, her curly hair up in a loose bun and a baby slung on her hip. “You can’t run off like that! I told you not to leave your chair! What did we talk about this morning? Making good choices?”

“But I don’t  _ want _ to make good choices today,” Nate said plainly.

Mrs. Jackson pressed her lips together and closed her eyes for a moment, jiggling the baby who’d begun to fuss, and flashing Steve an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Rogers. I told Nate to leave you alone.”

“It’s fine.” Steve hoped the insincerity in his smile wasn’t obvious. He loved his students-- mostly-- but running into them, or their parents, outside of school hours was not his favorite pastime.

“I appreciate that, but we’ve got to go home.” She gave Nate a pointed look as she bounced the baby on her hip. “Nate, say goodbye to Mr. Rogers. We’ve got to go to the bathroom before we leave.”

“I don’t have to go.”

“I know, but Tania needs a new diaper.”

Distaste flooded Nate’s face. “I’m not going in the baby bathroom.”

Steve was confused, but Mrs. Jackson sighed heavily. This was clearly a repeat argument. “It’s not a baby bathroom, sweetie. It’s a family bathroom with a changing table.”

“It’s a  _ baby _ bathroom,” Nate insisted. “There’s a picture of a baby on the door.”

_ “I’m _ going in, and  _ I’m _ not a baby.” Mrs. Jackson’s voice was steady, but thin. “It’s a  _ family _ bathroom, so parents and big brothers can help their little sisters change into clean diapers. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Noooooo…” Nate’s face was starting to scrunch up, and he clenched the juice box. “I’m. Not. A.  _ Baby!” _

This was exactly the sort of situation that Steve hated. He didn’t want to discipline kids outside of the classroom, especially not in front of their actual parents, and watching family drama play out was stressful. Steve looked down at the table, hoping that he wouldn’t be called on to give his opinion.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but we’d be happy to keep an eye on him for you.”

Steve looked up in alarm when he heard Sam’s voice. He’d been hoping that the Jacksons would be gone before Sam found him. Luck clearly wasn’t on his side. Sam stood next to the table with a drink in each hand and his patented Captain America reassuring grin on his face.

Mrs. Jackson did an excellent job at schooling her surprise, but Steve saw how she fluttered her eyelashes and smiled demurely. “Oh, I didn’t realise you had… company.”

“Hey, Cap.” Nate’s voice was comically casual as he waved his straw at Sam.

Sam nodded in greeting. “Good to see you again, buddy. What do you say, you wanna wait here with me and Mr. Rogers while your mom takes care of your sister?”

“‘Kay.” Nate shrugged as he went pack to poking at his juice box. Mrs. Jackson smiled gratefully at them both as she said her goodbye and reminded Nate to behave and strode off towards the bathroom with the baby.

Sam sat down and placed the drinks on the table. Steve scooted closer to Sam and patted the booth next to him. “You wanna sit down?”

“Nope.” 

“You need help with that juice box?” Sam asked.

“Nope.” Nate watched them with intense eyes as he beat the straw in a cadence against the top of the juice box. Steve couldn’t say he was disappointed that Nate didn’t want to sit; if possible, he wanted to make it to the end of the date without getting chocolate stains on his own jeans.

Sam laughed and pushed Steve’s drink over. Steve realized that he’d never given Sam his drink order. He took a sip; it was some sort of toasted coconut latte. Steve smiled against the rim of his cup. He’d mentioned his love for coconut during their conversations. Clearly, Sam had been listening.

“Cap, are you and Mr. Rogers married?”

Steve choked on a mouthful of toasted coconut. Sam somehow managed to appear unruffled, even as his fingernails dug into his paper cup.

“No,” he said in a low, calm voice. “We’re not.”

“Oh,” Nate mused. “So then you’re brothers.”

This time, Sam could not completely muffle his cough of surprise. “I-- what? No, we’re not brothers.”

Steve debated the merits of running into the baby bathroom and locking himself inside until closing.

“You sure?” Nate looked skeptical.

“Very sure,” Sam said with a smirk. “What made you think that?”

The condescension in Nate’s chocolate-stained face would have made Steve laugh, were it directed at anyone other than himself. “I seen you two kissing before you came in,” Nate said. “Only families or married people kiss. Everyone knows that.”

Sam’s expression didn’t change. Steve wanted to slide under the table and melt into the floor.

“It’s nice that you kiss Mr. Rogers,” Nate continued. “He needs some kissing real bad. That’s what Michelle’s mom says.”

Steve should have been embarrassed, and yeah, he definitely was. But out of habit, the comment shifted him seamlessly into no-bullshit mode.

“Nate,” Steve said, putting on his Teacher voice. “What do we say in class? No tattle tales.” 

Nate squeezed his juice box thoughtfully, and then turned back to Sam. “Are you gonna come back to class soon? You could be our teacher if you want.”

Sam pretended to consider the question. Steve melted a little inside. He’d loved seeing Sam interact with the kids in the classroom. The added bonus of watching him do it in glasses was making his heart flutter.

“I might come back, but only for a visit.” Sam concluded. “Why? Isn’t Mr. Rogers a good teacher?”

“Hmmm.” Nate’s eyes shifted towards Steve for a moment before returning to Sam. “He’s pretty good,” Nate confided. “But he sings a lot and  _ that’s _ not good at all. Also we never get good snacks.”

“No good snacks?” Sam asked in mock surprise.

“Nope.” Nate shook his head. “Yesterday we only had raisins.”

That was unfair. Steve tried to keep a varied and exciting rotation of snacks in his classroom. Every once in a while, he was caught off-guard and had to dust off his emergency stash, but that was hardly the norm.

The singing, though, well. Nate might have a point there. He’d noticed a few kids covering their ears during  _ Wheels On The Bus. _

Nate frowned down at his juicebox, and gave the foil square at the top a particularly forceful stab. Before Steve could ask once again if Nate needed help, juice exploded from the top of the box in a geyser.

“Mr. Rogers? I need help.” Nate blinked through the drops of apple juice clinging to his lashes as he held out the juice box and mangled straw.

A pile of napkins had appeared in front of Steve, and he gratefully grabbed them to sop up as much of the mess as he could. He sent a silent note of thanks into the universe for having the juice being apple, rather than cranberry or something else with a strong pigment.

Sam had managed to whisk the box and straw from Nate’s hands. “Sorry, buddy,” Sam said as he inserted the straw with minimal spillage and handed it back to Nate. “You’ve got Mr. Rogers for now. And I’m sure you’ll have awesome snacks next week. Mr. Rogers will take good care of you.”

Nate gave Steve an appraising look. “Prolly he will. But can Captain Marvel stop by sometimes? I’ll be real good! I won’t chew on my watermelon eraser for the rest of the year.”

That was a bold claim with no chance of success, but Steve didn’t comment. He looked over at Sam; he didn’t want to keep putting Sam on the spot, but Monica’s availability wasn’t his jurisdiction.

“I’ll see if she can stop by,” Sam said. “But you’ve gotta promise to be good for Mr. Rogers. And for your mom, too. Captain Marvel always makes good choices. She wants all the kids she visits to make good choices, too.”

Nate looked thoughtful as he sipped his juice. “‘Kay.”

Steve knew it was a lie. Nate would be back to gnawing on his eraser-- and the erasers of his deskmates-- by Monday. But Mrs. Jackson and Talia chose that moment to reappear, so Steve schooled his features into a bright smile.

Steve assured Mrs. Jackson that Nate had been no trouble at all, and ignored the cow eyes she’d been not-so-subtly tossing at Sam. Once they’d left, Steve rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head to his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t… that wasn’t…”

An arm wrapped around his shoulders, heavy and warm. Sam’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Don’t sweat it. It was cute.”

“Cute?” Steve glared at Sam through his fingers.

“Very,” Sam affirmed. “I dunno, I was nervous about scaring you off with the Cap stuff. But you’re clearly used to the spotlight, too.”

Steve laughed to himself. He scooted closer to Sam and bit his lower lip as he threaded their fingers together. “I’m not, really. And I promise you, our second date will be a lot calmer.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Sam looked amused, even as he tightened his arm around Steve’s shoulder. “First date ain’t over yet, and you’re already planning a second?”

Steve didn’t need to finish the date to be one hundred percent sure that Sam was something special. He looked down at their entwined hands, raising them to press his lips against the back of Sam’s palm. “Nah,” he said. “I’m planning way beyond that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my sister's student, K, who marched into class one day and declared, "Today is gonna be a _bad_ day. I'm gonna make _bad_ choices." And indeed, it was so.


End file.
